


Savior's Blood

by signal_boi



Series: The Prophet [2]
Category: Bendy and the Ink Machine
Genre: First Date, Hannibal references, He likes you, Henry's a Dick, Ink Consumption, Joey's also a dick, Other, Sammy's creepy but nice, Sammy/Reader, all hail the mighty bendy, don't drink ink kiddos, fancy food, i don't speak french, ink's nasty, joining the cult, please don't drink ink i'm serious, the studio's creepy too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 23:36:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10729626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signal_boi/pseuds/signal_boi
Summary: Sammy's asked you out on a date. It's a fancy place, and he's cute for awhile. Then he wants to show you something at the studio, and it gets creepy.  One of many prologues for Sammy's Jam.If you're squeamish about eating/drinking things that aren't supposed to be consumed, here's your warning. Some ink consumption. Because does Sammy care about his health? Probably not.Don't drink ink, kiddos. It tastes nasty, trust me. I actually put some on my tongue to write this correctly. It's nasty af.





	Savior's Blood

**Author's Note:**

> DON'T DRINK INK KIDDOS, I SWEAR TO BENDY

“I swear to God, Henry, be honest or I’ll shove my foot up your ass.” You took a few final glances in the bathroom mirror before stepping out into the hallway. “You know I can tell when you’re lying.” 

 

Henry looked up from his miniature sketchbook and squinted a bit, adjusting the frame of his glasses. He motioned for you to do a turn-around, and then he crossed his arms. “How fancy did you say this place is?”

 

“Four star, he told me. Four star restaurant dinner, then there was something at the studio that he wanted to show me before he cleared it with Joey. It must be pretty important if he can’t wait until after Joey’s approval.” You hadn’t gone for the fanciest thing in your wardrobe, but your attire was certainly a few steps up from your usual formal work clothes. Hopefully he’d appreciate the effort you’d gone to just to look nice. 

 

After mentioning Joey, Henry scoffed and went back to drawing. “C’mon, he’s not that bad of a boss. And y’know, Sammy’s a bit of a perfectionist. He’s got a thing about unfinished work in the eyes of the  _ unworthy. _ ” He laughed at his own joke, but you didn’t. Henry was certainly  _ normal  _ in comparison to your boss and your date for the night. 

 

You checked your watch, and as usual, you were right on time: you had exactly ten minutes to walk from Henry’s apartment to the restaurant where you were meeting Sammy. “Thanks for letting me come over, Henry. Even if you were no help at all.” He looked offended for a moment, and feigned pain. “Oh, stop it. You’re not a baby,” you joked as you pulled the door shut from the outside. 

 

Ten minutes until seven and the streets were already getting dark and empty. Luckily Henry lived somewhat close to this place, this restaurant that Sammy was so excited about. The  _ Dei Atramento,  _ the fanciest place in the area. 

 

Of course, ten feet from the front door of the place, Sammy was waiting. He’d slicked back his hair, and he wore a much fancier suit than you’d ever seen him wear to work, or  _ anywhere. _ “Sammy!” You called, waving to him from down the sidewalk. He acknowledged you, but waited until you were within earshot of a regular speaking volume. “Sorry, Henry was helping me get ready. Have you been waiting long?”

 

“I arrived two minutes before you called to me. So, no. I haven’t been waiting long.” He smirked, and offered his arm for you to take as you walked inside. The host waived the two of you over to the front, then gathered two menus and napkin sets. “We’ve got a reservation under Lawrence for seven o’clock.” 

 

The host walked you to a rather secluded booth towards the back of the dining room. Sammy stepped aside to let you sit down first, then he took his seat across from you. After placing the order for your drinks, Sammy cleared his throat.

 

“So… what are you considering, Sammy?” Even if the place was only four stars, the majority of the dishes on the menu were difficult to pronounce. Most everything was either French or Italian, with a few south or east Asian delicacies spread throughout. The descriptions weren’t much help, either.

 

He looked the whole menu over one more time before putting it down. “The  _ Tête de Veau en sauce verte  _ sounds… satisfactory. Do you need assistance?” He smirked as you shook your head and took another look, attempting to decipher the meals and their names.

 

“Wait,” You put your menu down just enough to see his face. The way he’d said the name of his dish of choice was almost perfect. Or, it sounded perfect. “Do you speak French?” He nodded. “Oh. Do you think you could… uh, translate for me? My French isn’t that great. It’s non-existent, actually.” 

 

Either he was laughing at your inability to read the menu, or your awkward plea for help. Either way, he was laughing at you. “Of course. What meat do you prefer?”

 

“Chicken? Or ham. Sorry, I know that’s kind of boring.” 

 

“Not at all.” He read each title individually, and you watched his eyes flick back and forth between each dish. “There’s the  _ Anis de Soie,  _ which is silkie chicken in a wolfberry and ginseng broth. Red dates and anise. Or…” He went a little further down the menu. “There’s  _ Jamon Ibérico _ . Supposedly one of the finest hams in the world. Served with  _ Kudal,  _ a fine South Indian curry. Either of those strike you as appetizing?” 

 

The ham and curry sounded much simpler than the chicken soup he’d offered. You didn’t often go to very fancy restaurants, so in lieu of being bold and adventurous, playing it a bit safer sounded like a good idea. “I think I’ll go with the ham. I love curry, too.” 

 

“ _Jamon_ _Ibérico_ it is. And seemingly just in time.” Your waiter returned with your drinks right on cue. Sammy ordered for the both of you, and even if he hadn’t, you would’ve asked him to. He struck conversation with you while you waited, mostly about work, or Joey. He inquired about Henry’s living space, as Sammy had never seen the man outside of the studio. You countered that, on the contrary, Henry was away from work often. You refrained from adding that it seemed like he was always there because _Sammy_ was the one who never left. 

 

* * *

 

“I’m not on this side of town much. How far is this place from the studio?” You asked, motioning a  thanks to Sammy for opening the taxi door for you. He walked around to the other side and sat right next to you, perhaps a little too closely. It was only the first date, after all. 

 

He gave the driver the directions, then either ignored or dismissed your question. The three of you drove in awkward silence. The driver had started to pick up on the tension between the two of you, and tried to ask simple questions to get you or Sammy talking, but it didn’t help. 

 

It turned out to only be a fifteen minute drive. Sammy took your hand and led you up to the door, but stood in front of it to keep you from going inside. “I need you to promise me something before we enter.” 

 

“Oh, uh… okay. What is it?”

 

“You cannot tell Joey. Not yet. I fear if he knew, it would drive him further away from all of us, more than it has already. Promise me that.” 

 

Keeping secrets from your boss? It was risky, but evidently, Sammy had done well so far in keeping whatever this was a secret. “Alright, you have my word. This is between us.” 

 

Sammy scoffed, and took your face in his hands. “Excellent. Let’s be on our way, now.” The door was locked, as expected. The time was nearly nine o’clock, even Joey had gone home by then. Sammy took your hand again and dragged you through the halls over to the stairwell. The floor he worked on primarily, shaft nine, was one of the lower floors in the building’s basement. He and Norman together shared the floor, but everyone knew that Sammy had more control than Norman. 

 

“The orchestra room?” You whispered, following closely. He’d let go of your hand, but you were beginning to wonder if he was completely aware of the fact you were still with him. He flipped the lights in the orchestra room, then walked up to each instrument and inspected it thoroughly. You didn’t know what he was doing or how to help him, so you stood patiently in the doorway. There was a cut-out of Bendy up in room beside the projector. Joey loved the cut-outs. 

 

“Alright, come with me.” Sammy stepped past you and headed up towards the projector. He turned the projector on, which didn’t have any reels in it, so it only displayed a blank screen on the wall. You did notice that once you were standing by the projector, there was a cut-out leaning up against one of the musicians’ chairs that hadn’t been there before. “Now, stay here.” 

 

With that, he ran out of the room and almost instantaneously appeared in the orchestra room below. He darted around, plucking some violin strings and hitting some random notes on the piano. Suddenly the projector flipped off, and what you thought was just a wall began to open into a new hallway. Sammy waved for you to come down to him, so you obeyed. 

 

“This is what I wanted to show you.” He went first into the new hallway. “This is my sanctuary.”  _ Ah.  _ He’d spoken of his sanctuary a few times, and Norman had always expressed his distaste for it. You hadn’t expected just a hallway and the flow control. 

 

“Oh. Interesting.” You tried not to sound confused, since to your knowledge, you were the only other person besides Sammy who’d ever been back here. Maybe Joey had, because of the flow control, but not for the same reason that you and Sammy were there. “What do you do in here?” It wasn’t completely empty. There were a few drinking glasses on the top shelf near the flow control, and a few notebooks and pens here and there. And plenty of inkwells, at least four. You’d never seen the man use a pencil. 

 

Sammy reached and picked up two of the glasses, then turned to face the pipes. “I’ve wanted to bring you here for a long time. You’re tolerant. You’re understanding, and kind. You may have noticed my peculiarities but you’ve never used them against me. You’re ideal.” You heard something splashing into the glasses, but to your knowledge, there wasn’t any sort of beverage in the room. “I want to ask one more favor of you, if that’s alright.” 

 

He turned back around to face you, and when he did, the door that had been hiding the sanctuary slammed shut behind you. The two glasses had definitely been filled, but with ink. “I don’t necessarily need an immediate answer, but it would be helpful.” Sammy tried to hand off one of the glasses of ink to you, and while you declined at first, he forced the glass into your hand. “Don’t worry, it won’t hurt you. The first time will be painfully uncomfortable, but over time, your body will adjust. It won’t kill you.”

 

As if to prove the fact to you, he downed his entire glass in a matter of seconds, then smiled at you with now black teeth. 

 

“What did you want to ask?” Cautiously you swirled the ink around in the glass, glancing between it and Sammy. 

 

“I want you to join me. Join me in the creation of the faith. Let the world know our savior.  _ Laudare daemonium. _ ”

 

He refused to look away from you. Sammy had always been a tad intimidating, but never like this. You feared that if you didn’t voluntarily drink it, he would force you. Internally, you braced yourself for the feeling and gradually brought the glass to your lips. The ink itself was only a bit thicker than water, but you felt every drop of it cling to the walls of your throat and mouth. The taste was abhorrent, but you didn’t dare stop. Sammy seemed content that you’d made it that far. 

 

As soon as the glass was empty, you understood what he meant by  _ painfully uncomfortable.  _ It was like someone had cut your abdomen open, and all your muscles were clenching together to resist the pain. Your teeth and mouth were likely stained, but his were too, so you doubted he cared. 

  
“ _ Good. _ You’ve done well, my little sheep.” Sammy took the empty glass from your hand and set it down on the lowest shelf. “I’ll take that as your acceptance to my offer. Which means, there’s quite a bit I must catch you up on. We’re going to be here awhile.” 


End file.
